Busses, Glasses, Nerds, A Marker
by NMH42
Summary: Isabella recounts how the gang formed in the beginning of 3rd Grade - on a school bus. K plus for future...altercations. Some Phinebella. More to come soon.
1. Introduction

It Started on a Bus.

I remember the exact bus, too.

Danville School District No. 19. She was a reliable old tin can. In the back seats, you got the best air of all the bumps by far, no matter what the kids from Wyckoff Place on Bus No. 8 told you.

But the point of this story isn't to go on and on about buses, anyway.

This is about how we met.

A lot of people think that we met in pre-school or something. I wish. It would be so cool to have seen the things he did with building blocks. I've heard the stories. Then again, everyone has.

But I'm getting off topic again. The point is, that bus is what made, broke, and rebuilt our gang. Our bus made us who we are today. Because of that, I almost wish it never happened. I almost wish I was on Wyckoff, like I was supposed to be, not on Maple Drive. I almost wish I was never on Bus 19.

Almost.


	2. Monday Morning

**Hey guys! I honestly didn't expect this many people to come out at once! Anyway, Chapter 2 is up now! Enjoy!**

September 7th. First day of school, 4th Grade. Picture me – Pink Dress, Pink Bow, nothing really different from today. But even though I didn't look all that different, I was a far cry from the happy, popular, carefree kid I am today. Because back then, I was alone.

My family had bounced around a lot (Dad was in the military) and had moved to Danville only a week before. Dad was halfway across the world, in Germany. I missed him terribly. On top of that, we'd had to make a last second change. The house we we're planning to get, on Wyckoff Drive, was sold to a higher bidder the day before we flew in from our old home in New York State. Luckily, there was a house for sale just two streets over, on Maple Drive. But it wasn't what I'd planned for. The other house was huge, and had woods in the back of it, just like our old home. The house on Maple Drive had a tiny yard. It did have a pool, but a pool isn't the woods. No one can make woods out of a pool. And that's how I walked onto the bus. In a strange house, with no friends, and no dad at home. Nothing.

As I reached the middle of the bus, the place for 3rd Graders such as myself, I scanned the seats. There was a small cluster of girls speaking in hushed, excited whispers, totally in their own world. They were wearing…sashes? My heart skipped a beat. Fireside Girls! Yes! I'd been EXTREMELY ACTIVE in my old Troop, and had been hoping to be elected the next Troop Leader until we'd moved. These girls seemed nice. Maybe I'd finally get my chance –

I lurched forward suddenly as the bus began moving again. Oh well. I'd have to talk with the girls some other time. I scanned the other seats. In the seat behind the girls on the right side were two boys, one of them wearing black, looking around nervously, and slightly overweight, and the other the polar opposite – a short, frail, Indian boy who looked so happy you'd have thought it was his birthday.

I glanced to the left. On the inside of the seat was a tall, reserved looking boy with – green hair? And his head looked kinda like a building…However, despite his outwardly calm demeanor; there was something in his gaze that carried WAY too many emotions to read at once. In short, this kid was mysterious as heck. I followed his gaze to the kid next to him.

Now, I expect you all to think that it was all rainbows and unicorns and hearts, blah blah blah, right away, right? Well, maybe it would have been, but at that exact second, the bus driver, a short, enormously overweight man in his early 50's, with a face screwed up like an angry bulldog, decided it was time to scream at the top of his lungs,

"Sit down girly! The bus is in motion!" I felt a tug on my sleeve. The boy on the outside of the three seater who was next to Weird Green Hair kid slid down the seat and patted the now open outward third of the seat. I sat down quickly. The bus driver wasn't finished.

"And don't forget to buckle your seatbelt!" I did as I was told.

"Don't worry about him." I swiveled my head at a rate and angle an owl might envy. It was the kid who'd moved over for me. Now, if the kid with green hair was weird, this kid was freakish. The only hair he had was a little spurt of red on the tip of his head, which WAS A TRIANGLE. HIS HEAD WAS A TRIANGLE.

"He yells a lot, but that's only because he's upset that he's stuck in a dead end job with nowhere to go in his life, and he's also obviously overweight." (When you in 3rd grade, a sentence like that can REALLY make your head spin.) "So anyway, what's your name? I don't think we've ever met before."

"I-I-Isabella." I stammered out, partly because it was the first day of school and as a result, I was feeling a little shy, but mostly because HIS HEAD WAS A TRIANGLE. He smiled.

"Isabella? That's a pretty name. I'm Phineas, and this is my stepbrother, Ferb." He replied, pointing to the boy next to him. Stepbrother?

"How do you do?" The boy asked softly. He had a nice accent…English, I thought to myself.

"And this is Buford", Phineas continued, pointing to the boy in black across the aisle, "and Baljeet."

"Hello!" Baljeet said cheerily.

"Quiet, man!" Buford hissed, "He could be on any second!"

"Brian does not frighten me!" Baljeet exclaimed proudly, "One bully isn't going to ruin MY first day of 7th grade!" Wait, 7th?! Baljeet saw my confused look. "I am in the accelerated learning program." He explained. "Phineas here could be in it too, if he wanted, but…"

"It would take too much time away from what I love do most!" Phineas finished.

"And what would that be?" I asked, starting to gain confidence.

Suddenly, a dull ringing noise came from Phineas' pocket. He reached in and fished out a CELL PHONE. A CELL PHONE! How many 8 year olds have a cell phone!? But when I looked at it again, I realized it was no ordinary phone. This phone had, among other things, a mini satellite dish, what looked like a flash point, something that resembled a laser pointer, and it was shaped like…a platypus? Phineas answered his call.

"Sal? Hey buddy! Ya, we're not at school yet, we're on the bus. (Inaudible Sound of Sal Talking) Ya. (Inaudible Sound of Sal Talking) Uh-huh. So listen, can you make a delivery for 4 tons of reinforced steel to the backyard while we're gone? Oh ya, and we'll need some chains and seats. We can handle the wiring. (Inaudible Sound of Sal Talking) Yes, I already showed the investors the scale model. They're all on board. (Inaudible Sound of Sal Talking) What's that? (Inaudible Sound of Sal Talking) Why yes, yes I am. Anyway, thanks Sal! See ya!" Phineas hung up. At this point, my mouth was low enough to graze the dirty bus floor. Phineas smiled at me.

"Inventing, Isabella! Ferb and I, with the help of Buford, Baljeet, and occasionally that group of Fireside Girls in front of us, invent something new every day!" He looks at me for a second. "Say, you look like you're a hard and determined worker, and you'd definitely have lots of fun. Would you like to help us?" I thought for a second. No, less than that.

"Absolutely." As if on cue, we pulled up at school, and departed that bus. And just like that, I wasn't alone anymore.


	3. Monday Afternoon, Pt 1

**Told you there was more! Here's Monday Afternoon, Part 1! Robot Wolf 26Z - She will meet the Fireside Girls, but not for another chapter or 2. And Glasses does refer to a character, but it isn't Gretchen...**

By the time school let out that day, I felt…different. Alive, somehow. As luck would have it, Phineas, Ferb, Buford and I all had the same teacher; a wonderful woman in her mid-20's named Miss Osborn. She was full of energy, (aren't all young, new teachers that way?) and it was apparent that she would be a great teacher. It turned out that Baljeet's accelerated learning program actually took place in the elementary school, so we all got to eat lunch together. We? Was I already thinking we, after only spending 3 or so hours with the gang?

Yes, yes I was.

Thus, we we're naturally buoyant we returned to Bus 19 that afternoon, excited about both the coming year, and the "project" that Phineas and Ferb claimed would be completed in their backyard. I still had no idea what they'd do with that much steel piping – my thoughts were stopped by a sudden intake of breathe from the entire bus. I looked up. We still hadn't left yet, and now I saw why – a boy who hadn't been on the bus in the morning had just gotten on. If you could call him a "boy". "Man" might be more appropriate. Or mutant. This kid was AT LEAST 5 feet tall, looked like he could probably bench press 250, and had a long, jagged scar running over his forehead and left eye, like Harry Potter gone wild. He wore a Metallica t-shirt, with what looked like – broken glass? – sticking out at odd angles. Buford gulped.

"Brian!" He squeaked. Frantic whispers flew across the bus.

"Why wasn't he on this morning?"

"Maybe he overslept?"

"Maybe his mom forgot to turn on his Slayer tapes to wake him up?"

"Is he looking at me? Please tell me he isn't looking at me!"

"Slayer? Phfft. Megadeth all the way."

"Slayer!"

"Megadeth!"

"He's scary!"

"Your both wrong. Everyone knows Metallica is the best of the Big Four of Thrash. See, Brian's wearing a "…With Liberty and Justice For All" shirt!"

"Megadeth!"

"Metallica!"

"Slayer!"

"Anthrax!"

(Megadeth, Metallica, and Slayer fans all at once) "NO ONE CARES ABOUT YOU."

"GUYS! HE'S COMING!" And indeed he was. The arguments about thrash metal would have to wait. Brian was on the move. He passed each section differently – he ignored the Kindergarteners out of mercy, glared at the 1st Graders venomously, and shoved a few 2nd graders lightly. By the time he reached us, any mercy in his face was gone.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't the Bob the Builder gang?" He cracked when he reached us. "Weak." I thought to myself. Brian turned to Buford. "So Buford, I see that you've lost some weight. Were you on a fish diet?" Brian started laughing. I didn't get it. Buford apparently did though. He clenched his fists.

"Leave Biff outta this, Brian."

"IT TALKS!" Brian crowed. "EVERYONE, IT TALKS!"

"Hey, leave him alone!" Stunned. Silence. I was shocked that ANYONE would have the guts to stand up to Brian. But I was especially shocked by who that one would be.

Me.

Brian looked at me like I was an ant. No, like I was dirt. No, like I was NOTHING.

"Did you say something?" He asked. My eyes were round as marbles. "If you say anything else, I'll rip those pretty sparkly lips right off of your face!" I touched a finger to my mouth. Dang it. I knew that Generic Disney Channel Heartthrob Brand Lip Gloss wasn't the way to go today. Brian leaned in closer. "In fact, I don't even think I'll wait until next time."

Yep, I was officially done for. Brian brought his fist back. No. He wouldn't hit a GIRL, especially not one 2 years younger than him. His fist went back further. Yep, he would. But as I was trying to figure out who I would leave Pinky to, I didn't notice Phineas shifting in his seat behind me. I didn't notice his fist rising back, faster than Brian's. Brian didn't notice either. Because he was totally surprised when Phineas' fist crashed into his nose and sent him flying across the bus. As was everyone else. If it was tomb quiet before, now it was extinct Earth quiet. Phineas stood up.

"Leave me and my friends alone Brian, or you'll get much more of that, much more often." He turned to me. "Are you okay?" he asked, his voice full of concern. I nodded, stunned. It almost seemed like – like he was glowing. Like he was God, like he was the whole world. Like – love. Phineas smiled. "Body building course last summer." He explained. About a second later, the bus erupted in cheers. You'd have thought we'd just won the Super Bowl or something. Brian got up, holding his head in his hands. He glared at Phineas.

"You listen to me, Pointy. I'm gonna get you. I don't know when yet, and I don't know how. But mark my words, I will pound you until you go home in a cardboard box." He limped off. Phineas seemed unfazed. Buford was trembling.

"He-he beat Brian. Phineas beat BRIAN." Baljeet patted his friend on the back.

"Yes Buford. You see? He is human!" Buford nodded, and a look of peace flooded his face. Baljeet grinned.

"And they laughed at me for going to psychology camp!" At this moment, the bus pulled up to our stop. Buford, Baljeet, Phineas and I got off. Wait – Ferb? I tapped Phineas on the shoulder.

"Phineas, where's Ferb?"

"Right there!" Phineas responded, pointing behind me. Ferb stood not 4 feet away from us.

"Wow!" I said. "He doesn't talk much, does he?" Phineas shook his head.

"No, Ferb's more a man of action." At this, Ferb took 3 steps, then jumped, no FLEW, over his house and into his backyard. A dull metallic crash followed. Phineas winced. "He still hasn't learned to land yet, but he's getting better."

"Phineas?" I began. He turned back to face me. "Thanks for sticking up for me back there-"

"Oh, no problem, Isabella! Did you think I was going to let that creep HURT you? Never in a million years!" I smiled. He was so…good. Just, good. "Besides", Phineas continued, "That was nothing. Wait 'til you see what we planned for the backyard! Race you all there!" He exclaimed. At that, we all were in dead sprint across the street, down the Flynn-Fletchers driveway, and into their backyard. I stopped short.

"Oh, Phineas!" I exclaimed. "What are you going to do with all of THIS?"

**Cliffhanger!What will be done? What will Brian do about his public beating? How will the characters become who they are today? And where's Candace? (And Perry?) Tune in next week! (Just kidding. You probably won't have to wait that long.)**


	4. Monday Afternoon, Pt 2

**We're back! Fueled by The White Stripes "Icky Thump" on an endless loop and ramen noodles, here's Chapter 4!**

**PFTones3482 – He isn't really flying, he just jumped REALLY HIGH. I figured that since Ferb can dance up a wall, he can probably jump a house too.**

The backyard had more metal in it then a junkyard. Crates lined the fence. Metal tubing sat in piles about 10 feet high each. Panels with ancient looking paintings on them, the kind that are on carousels at carnivals, lay against the tree. In the corner was a pile of chairs with chains attached to them. In the middle of everything stood a girl who looked like she was about 13 or so. Phineas walked up to her.

"Hey Candace! Thanks for looking after all the stuff while we we're gone!" Candace smiled and hugged Phineas.

"No problem, Phineas! Anything for my little brothers and their friends!" She looked at me. "And who's THIS pretty young lady?"

"This is Isabella!" Phineas answered. "She just moved in across the street!" Candace beamed.

"Well it's nice to meet you Isabella! I KNOW that you'll have fun with the boys today. Phineas, what was the project today?"

"Swings, Candace!" Phineas responded, "We're making the world's largest carnival swing!"

"Well you boys have fun!" She said. "I've got to call Stacy and wax poetic about how awesome that blonde boy, Jeremy, is, with his guitar and voice and band and green shirts and gingerbread smelling house…" Candace drifted inside (something's haven't changed at all.) Phineas turned back to the rest of us. "Well guys, it's obvious that we've got a lot of work ahead of us. It's time to call in the Fireside Girls!" I smiled. If these Fireside Girls we're anything like the ones back in Houston, they would be MORE then prepared for this.

It turned out I was right. Sadly, I was a little too right. The Fireside Girls arrived within 10 minutes of Phineas calling them, and as soon as they got there, we instantly got to work. I was in charge of attaching the picture panels to the top of the swing. It was easy enough work, but unfortunately, everyone was so busy that I missed my chance to talk to the Fireside Girls about joining. As soon as we we're done, they had to leave (something about delivering cupcakes to a pharmacist downtown.) Ah well. I told myself I'd talk to them tomorrow. At this point, we all stepped back to admire our handiwork. It was very impressive. The swings dangled at our height, but the top of the swing was at least 50 feet off the ground. It hadn't seemed to take that long to make. In fact, I wondered…

"Hey Ferb, how long did this one take?" Phineas asked, voicing my question for me. Ferb pulled out a blackboard from his back (he kept a blackboard behind his back?! How did it fit back there?!) did an insanely complicated equation. Then he checked his watch.

"25 minutes." He said, softly. My jaw dropped. 25 minutes? It takes most amusement parks at least a month do start planning something this big! Phineas saw my reaction.

"The more practice you have bending the laws of the universe, the easier it is to do it. We've been doing stuff like this for years." He explained. I nodded, even though at age 8 I had no grasp of what the laws of the universe we're, (I still don't think I understand them.) Buford made a little coughing noise. Everyone looked at him.

"Are we gonna sit around and talk about physics all day, are we gonna ride this thing?"

"Well of course Buford! Baljeet, open the gate!" Phineas cried. Baljeet did as he was told. A huge stream of kids entered the backyard and jumped onto the seats. Phineas turned to me. "Come on!" He said, a huge smile on his face, taking my hand and running with me over to 2 seats next to each other. When everyone was seated and buckled down, Phineas nodded to Ferb, who was manning controls. Ferb flicked a switch, and we began to rise up, and up, and up…suddenly, I realized that the top was rising with us, so there was no telling how high we'd end up!

"Phineas?" I asked unsteadily, "Are you sure this is safe?" He looked at me dead in the eye and said,

"Isabella, I promise you, I will make sure that this ride, or anything else I do, EVER hurts you."

Now, I'm not entirely sure what happened next. I knew there we're stars, but I don't know if they were in my head or if we were so high up we were flying past burning balls of gas in space. I think they're were centaurs, but that could have been the pictures on the panels I put up myself. There could have been a rainbow, but again, that could have been real too. But in both worlds, there was Phineas. He was everywhere – in the clouds, in the sky, in the ground, in the sun, everywhere. Even after the ride ended, he seemed everywhere. I mumbled my thanks at the great ride to him and Ferb, then sprinted across the street to my house, the house that shouldn't have been mine, and locked myself in my room that replaced the one I was cheated out of. I lay down on my bed and closed my eyes.

I had a lot of thinking to do before tomorrow.

**OH! Another cliffhanger! Why is Candace so nonchalant about the boys inventions? What will Isabella say to the Fireside Girls? What will the boys do next? And what do the objects in the title mean? (Besides the Bus part, that's pretty literal.) Find out SOON! (Probably by Sunday.)**


	5. Tuesday Morning And Noon

**And we're back! Sorry that it's late 2 days late, but there was a surprise beach vacation and labor day and a tractor and all manner of similar things. Anyway, here's Chapter 5! Also, I am pleased to announce the arrival of one of the more well-known characters in Phineas and Ferb fanon (No, not Emily.) Mrs. Ferb Fletcher-inator - No, but that's a good guess. I'll tell you all now that the character with glasses does NOT have them on the actual show. Skychan11 - Sadly, I can't tell you the answer to either of those questions yet, as that would obviously spoil the story. However, I can tell you that the character who gets glasses, or rather, the glasses themselves, is what makes Candace so uptight (NO, Candace isn't getting glasses) And yes, Brian is the guy who almost ate Biff. But that doesn't happen in this story. But something similar does...Mwahahahaha...**

4 a.m. Tuesday, September 8th, 2009. I sit on the edge of my bed, thinking. I would come to assume this position often as the years would go by, whenever he was on my mind. But that night was the first time I'd ever been up that late, or had those feelings, and I was terrified. Try to explain love to an 8 year old. The best you can do is probably draw them a heart and tell them that love looks like it. But it wasn't just Phineas I was thinking about. It was the Fireside Girls, it was Dad back in Germany, it was Brian almost beating me to a pulp. I had no idea where to go.

Except up.

I got on the bus that morning apprehensive, slowly, quietly. I looked around for Brian, but didn't see him. Hmm. Suppose those thrash tapes didn't wake him up again. I looked to the Fireside Girls. Shoot. There were no more seats available in their row AGAIN. I'd have to catch them at lunch, I reasoned. I turned to where Phineas, Ferb, Baljeet and Buford sat. The gang was in the same place it had been the day before, in the same positions – Buford looked around worriedly, Baljeet looked confident, Ferb looked distant, and Phineas was furiously drawing something. I slid into the seat next to him, by the aisle. I'd rehearsed what I was going to say to him for hours.

"Hey Phineas!" I said cheerfully, trying to hide my feelings with a smile. Phineas looked up. He smiled (always a good sign.)

"Hey Isabella!" He looked back down at his work. It looked like a blueprint of some sort, but he was leaning over it, so I couldn't be sure. I'd planned to have a heart to heart with Phineas about my feelings, but it was obvious that first I needed his attention. I tried greeting him again.

"Uh…Whatcha doin'?" I asked sweetly.

I personally believe what happened next wasn't quite as weird as what had happened in the backyard the previous day, but it would have to be a close second. As soon as I spoke, fireworks went off behind me. My voice seemed to have an echo quality. Hearts seemed to emanate from all around me. Everything seemed pinker, softer, and cuter. My eyes felt HUGE. A pink shockwave shot out from my bow, and what sounded like a sweet violin piece played in the background briefly. Phineas looked up slowly, a look of awe on his face. I realized, suddenly, that everyone on the bus was looking at me. But no one spoke. No one, that is, except Ferb.

"That. Was. So. Cute."

It turned out that the blueprint Phineas had been drawing was for a massive underground tunnel that was to be that days project. Massive tubes would be the main means of transport, and the city would be called either Ferbville or Perrybergh. Why Perrybergh, I had no idea (but I would soon find out.) However, I didn't find out exactly what the blueprint was for until we arrived at school. Everyone close to the "episode", as it was now being called, took a little while to get back to normal. Phineas had a slight twitch in his hand for at least an hour. But, I told myself, at least he noticed you. But by lunchtime, my thoughts, for the first time all day, weren't about Phineas.

It was Fireside Girl time.

I walked into the cafeteria. The gang usually sat right smack dab in the middle, constantly talking with others and telling them what the plan was for that afternoon (Phineas' and Ferb's projects we're always the highlight of everyday.) Luckily, the Fireside Girls sat not 2 tables away, so it wasn't as though I was too far away from my friends should something go wrong.

This turned out to be very handy, because everything that could go wrong, did.

I walked up to their table, once again using a smile as my mask. I reached their table. The girls looked up.

"Hi!" I said, "I'm Isabella! I heard that you guys are the local Fireside Girls troop! I just moved in, and I was REALLY active in my old troop. So, I was kinda wondering..."

"If you could join?" asked a girl with glasses. I nodded. She smiled. "Of course! My name's Gretchen and this is Katie, Adyson, Milly, Ginger, and Holly! Welcome to Troop 462-"

"HEY!" A bold, kind of bratty voice rang across the cafeteria. Everyone turned. I did a double take. Standing down the aisle of tables was a Girl who looked JUST LIKE ME. Well, sort of. Her hair was brown, not black, and her dress and bow we're maroon, not pink. Huh. Maybe we were separated at birth. The girl walked up. With a start, I realized she was talking to ME. She walked up to us, a jaunty, swinging walk that one might expect from a girl twice her age. She reached me. "Uh, like, what are you doing?" She asked, looking down her nose at me like I was something unpleasant on her shoe.

"I believe I'm sitting down and trying to join this troop." I responded, a little snappishly. The girl laughed, not a humorous laugh, but a short, sarcastic one.

"Ha ha ha! No. No, see, you can't JOIN this troop. This is MY troop, right girls?" I looked to Gretchen.

"HER troop? Can you OWN a Fireside Girls Troop?" Gretchen shifted uncomfortably.

"Well, Isabelle here is kind of a special case…"

"You KNOW IT girl!" Isabelle shouted, "This troop was going to, like, go under due to lack of funding, but when we moved in last week, Daddy TOTALLY put in enough money to keep this troop going for as long as he wants. He saved this troop, and he can kill it, just as easily. This troop is, like, mine." She looked me over. "And I don't care HOW active you said you we're in you old troop, I'm not letting anyone in looking like THAT. Where'd you get that dress, the thrift store?" She laughed her same short laugh again, while I resisted the temptation to point out to Isabelle that our dresses were almost identical and that if you kept it up, she would soon find herself in a world of pain. It was a good thing I had my Anger Management patch, because it was all that was keeping me from showing off my Mixed Martial Arts Patch. Isabelle suddenly stopped laughing and looked at me closer. "Wait, haven't I seen you somewhere before?" She grinned menacingly. "Oh, that's right. You're from that family that was going to buy our house on Wyckoff before we did! We got that place CHEAP too, thanks to your low as dirt offer." I gasped. I lost my dream home to THIS MONSTER?! Isabelle wasn't done, however. "I'm surprised you ever WERE a Fireside Girl – how on earth did you pay the entrance fee?" The whole cafeteria gasped. Gretchen and the other girls looked on helplessly. Suddenly, I felt a hand on my shoulder. I turned. Thank God.

"Come on Isabella, sit with us. At least you don't have to BUY your friends." The entire cafeteria let out a collective "OHHHHHHHHH!" as Phineas led me back to our table and Isabelle sat down in a huff. I turned back to the Fireside Girl table for a moment. Gretchen looked me dead in the eye and mouthed "Sorry". I shrugged. That harpy may have thrown the first punch, but, my hand to God; I WOULD throw the last one.

**Cliffhanger! What will Isabella do? When will Brian strike back? Who's Glasses? What's with the Marker? And WHERE'S PERRY? Also, hate to say it, but school is starting soon, so don't be too alarmed if updates aren't as frequent as they once were. BUT I WILL FINISH THIS STORY! AND MAKE MORE TOO! So, ya. See you all...later.**


	6. Tuesday Afternoon

**Hey guys! I know I'm WAY behind schedule, but I'VE BEEN BUSY! Anyway, no one reads this, so let's get started!**

**When we last left our heroes, Isabella was forced out of the Fireside Girls, but had discovered the awesome power of "Whatcha Doin'?" What will our heroes do next? Find out…NOW!**

**PFTones3482 – Not like a tractor that pulls stuff, its more of a john deere riding mower**

**Peanutjon – Ya, I've found that she, as well as Emily Kinney, Ferb's girlfriend from England, are a LOT bigger on the official PF Fanon site then here (I used to spend a slightly unhealthy amount of time there)**

**Gravity5 – Yes, he does! But as you can see, I'm made of excuses. And who says I'm a girl?...WHAT?! IS THERE SOME LAW SAYING GUYS CAN'T LIKE AND WRITE ABOUT AN AWESOME, FUNNY INSIGHTFUL TV SHOW? (Note – I am not a brony.)**

**Phinebella Fanatic – Yes, but first comes the calm before the storm – gotta set everything up for a final BOOM!**

**GryffindorSpark – No, neither of them is glasses, though if I didn't have such a firm idea as to who it was and how important it is do the end of story, they probably would be. You guys' reviews actually give me a lot of ideas for how to take the story, as I only really have the ending completely fleshed out (So keep typing!)**

**Robot Wolf 26Z – Oh, I wouldn't count that out…mwahahaha…anyway that's a good movie. 1991 was a good year! (1991 - The Year Punk Broke! Yes! No one understands!) And ya, Isabelle is.**

**Skychan11 – I can say that Baljeet will make a good tutor, and that I agree that math painfully hard, and crushingly boring.**

**Em – Thanks!**

**Anyway, no one really reads this, so ON TO THE STORY!**

I must say, if it weren't for Phineas, I would have been the lowest of the low at school, after only 2 days there. When your put down by a rich snob like Isabelle, someone you're nicer and more likeable than, your social stock plummets. If Phineas hadn't rectified the scales with his one liner at the end, I would have been done for. He really seems to take this "never let anyone hurt me" thing seriously. I wonder…No. He must just be protecting me because he knows that as the new kid, I'm the most at risk one of the gang, what with Brian and Isabelle wanting me gone.

I'm shaken out of my thought as we hit a bump in the road. I scan the bus. I now sit on the inside of the three seater, between Ferb, on the outside, and Phineas, who has the aisle. A few rows back, the reason for our change shoots lasers at us with his gaze. But Brian wouldn't dare try anything with Phineas to go through, no after he got absolutely humiliated by a kid a quarter his size.

Oh, he won't forget that soon.

Someone taps me on the shoulder.

I look up.

Gretchen.

She looks at me awkwardly for a moment, then asks,

"So how are we going to get rid of Isabelle?" The idea surprises me. Isabelle is evil, but I didn't know that even her own troop hated her! I voice my thoughts,

"Get rid of her?" By now all the other girls have turned toward us. Adyson snorts.

"Heck ya! Have you not seen the way she acts? And at meetings, she knows absolutely NOTHING. We have to spend the entire meeting teaching her the square knot OVER AND OVER again. She's not just a brat – she's dangerous too. She almost set our clubhouse on fire when she built her fire a little TOO big…point is, she's gotta go."

"But how?" Katie pipes up.

"Find another funder?" asks Katie.

"We'll need to find another one to replace Isabelle's dad, but that's not grounds to dismiss Isabelle altogether. Maybe we can show The Senior Board how bad of a Fireside Girl she is?" Proposes Milly. Holly shakes her head.

"The Board doesn't review girls until they've spent a year in the troop. So we WILL be able to get rid of her, but not for a while." Everyone groans.

"Why is life so ridiculously stacked toward the wealthy?" asks Ginger.

"Because they've succeeded in life and deserve to enjoy the fruits of their labor without having to share it with others!" Shouts a kid in front of us whose parents must be Republican.

"Just because they're successful doesn't mean they can trample everyone else to get what they want!" Ginger responds, (her parents must be Democrats.)

"Communist!"

"Nazi!"

"WAIT!" I say, ending the little "debate" going on in front of me before it escalates into all-out war. "What if we get Isabelle to leave on her own accord?"

"What do you mean?" asks Gretchen. I draw the girls into a huddle and whisper my plan. We all giggle.

"Alright!" Gretchen says, grinning from ear to ear, "Sound like a plan, Chief!"

Hmm. Chief.

I like it.

We've by now reached Maple Drive. The Fireside Girls have off today, so they can help us with our project AND enjoy it. This should help us, but right from the start, there are problems. The supplies is late, (something about the delivery man, Paul, forgetting a pen) Baljeet miscalculated some minor angle, and the underground city looks like a unicorn until Phineas fixes it, and Phineas forgot to sign liability waivers, which sets us all back about 15 minutes. But the biggest problem is Phineas himself. Even after the angle readjustment, the city STILL looks like a unicorn, albeit an underground one. He keeps squinting at the blueprints, which is weird, because Ferb wrote this one up, and he has REALLY BIG AND NEAT HANDWRITING. I feel a tap on my shoulder, kind of like a ghost's hand would feel like. I turn.

Ferb. I realize we haven't had a real one on one conversation yet. I start to greet him, but he starts first.

"He won't admit it, will he?" He says with a small grin. I'm confused.

"Who, Phineas? Won't admit what?" Before Ferb can answer, Phineas comes up, looking just a tad embarrassed. The emotion looks strange across his usually upbeat face.

"Ferb! What does this measurement here say?" I look at the blueprint. The paper clearly says 5 feet. And it may be the largest 2 words on the whole paper, save for the title. Ferb places a hand on his brother's shoulder.

"That beam is 5 feet long, Phineas." Phineas smiles.

"Thanks bro!" He says, then runs off to cut the beam in question. Ferb sighs.

"He's going to hurt someone eventually, Isabella." He turns to me. "Phineas has terrible vision. He needs glasses." I frown, confused.

"Wait – if he needs glasses, why won't he get any?" Ferb shrugs. "Because he'll look like a nerd?" I ask. Ferb thinks this over for a minute, then nods. I think to myself. I'm right. With a nose as big as Phineas', glasses would NOT be the best things to wear.

"Just be sure to always be careful around him if he seems to not be able to read the blueprint, and NEVER let on that you know. OK?" I nod. My friend's self-esteem is too important for him to lose. Because when you think about, Phineas is what holds this neighborhood together. We all need him.

The rest of the day goes on without incident. We have a great time diving through the tunnels of the city. In the end, the whole network of tubing is bought by the city to use as a design for the new subway. The Fireside Girls and I finalize our plan for tomorrow. I go home, do my homework, eat dinner, and go to bed. A normal night. Right before I got to sleep, I pack the supplies needed in our bag. A glass of water and a marker. I place the two items in my bag and lie down to go to sleep. However, just as I drift off to sleep, I have one thought – is this going too far?


	7. Wednesday

Hey guys! So I know I haven't updated in about a month, but school's hit me like a load of bricks, so I have semi-plausible excuses. Anyway, here's Wednesday! Also I'm in a bit of a hurry so no spending half the story on author's notes today - sorry. Warning – explicit language in this story.

I awoke that morning knowing that the day would be a turning point, one way or another. I just never thought it would turn out the way it did. There were no variables in the plan whatsoever. I was to "accidentally" trip and smear some ink from the marker I "happened" to be carrying that "happened" to be open on Isabelle and her lunch. Then she'd go to the bathroom to wash off, and the spout would unleash 1000 times the required amount of water (a little of Adyson's handiwork. And it wouldn't be water coming out. It would be glue. Then there would be the feathers, mud, and, eventually, the giant floating baby head (you know, for shock value.) But the thought I'd had going to bed still plagued me – wasn't this going too far? Wasn't her public humiliation outweighing mine? These thoughts flew around my brain throughout the bus ride, blocking out Phineas' adorable yet somewhat long winded droning on bolt size and Brian's icy stare on the back of my head. The thoughts continued into the first half of the day, until finally they couldn't be ignored. It was around 10:30. Miss Osborn was asking us about whether Isaac egging Monica's car was a fitting retaliation for her leaving him when he needed her most in The Fault in Our Stars (Let's just say that our class was made of awesome.) She turned to me.

"Isabella, what do you think?" My face reddened. I wasn't ready for this. It was too close to home. Still, I soldiered on.

"Well, I guess that, um, Isaac probably thinks that he's in the right because, um, his anger is, clouding his emotion, but…" I trailed off. Miss Osborn nodded encouragingly. I continued "…but he had to have had second thoughts. I mean, even if he hated Monica for what she did, he still, um, knew the car was important to her, right? And this must have just built up until he just couldn't take it and…he egged the car." Miss Osborn nodded understandingly.

"Hm. Very insightful, Isabella." She lowered her voice to an almost whisper. "And I hope you do what you feel is right." I nodded. Suddenly, it was all clear what I was to do.

Lunch time came. All the girls were in their stations. The clock struck 11:11 am. H-Hour had arrived. I nodded at Gretchen, who was concealed behind a banner advertising the school Safety Patrol. I rose form my (suspiciously empty) table and approached Isabelle's table. She and her group of friends held court at the North end of the cafeteria, ruling over everyone else with an iron fist. Well, I thought to myself, that's about to change. I was 5 steps away. 4 steps. 3. 2. 1. No turning back now. I cleared my throat. Isabelle and her cronies turned. As soon as they all saw me, their face distorted like they'd seen something unpleasant. Yeah, I thought, right back at you.

"What do YOU want?" Isabelle whined. I reached into my pocket, pulled out the marker…

…and tossed it onto the table next to Isabelle. She looked up at me, confused.

"Isabelle," I began, "After yesterday, I was mad. No, I was furious. And it wasn't just me. The Fireside Girls are fed up too. So, we planned this prank. It involved feathers and glue and…you. And I was the trigger. I was supposed to get that," I pointed to the marker, "on you. But I've thought on it. And…I'm calling off the prank." At this, all the girls rolled out from they're hiding places and stood behind me. I continued my speech. "I really don't want us to be enemies. We'll just end up destroying each other a la U.S. and Soviet Russia. So…friends?" Isabelle looked at me for a moment, leaned in close, and promptly spat in my face. Literally. Everyone (I mean EVERYONE) gasped. I heard a scuffling in the background. All the Fireside Girls were being held back by Isabelle's friends, and Phineas was fighting tooth and nail to get to me, but a wall of meat, in this case, Brian, stood solidly in his way. "Get her cuz!" He roared in his baritone voice. Cuz? Well, I guess nastiness ran in the family. She stood. I shrank down to the floor.

"Now you listen to me you parasite! I could care less for what you think or feel. I am just better then you. That's that. I mean, what ILLEGAL could be better than me?"

I don't really remember what happened after that.

I just remember that I ran. I ran until I got home.

And I cried.

The streetlights outside were amber against the black tarmac when there was a knock on my door. I tried my tears (I was, after all, still crying) and opened the door a crack. Phineas.

I rushed to him, sinking into his arms. There was nothing romantic about it at all. Just comfort. And then I heard it. It was a light, small noise, like something fragile breaking.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry." It was Phineas. I pulled back and looked him in the eye. Tear stained eyes looked back. I stopped crying at once. And from that moment on, I told myself I'd never have Phineas cry for me again.


	8. Thursday Morning

**The Wednesday story came on a Wednesday…so here's the Thursday story (part 1) on a Thursday! Also, from now on all authors notes responding to comments will be placed at the end of the story. So here's Thursday morning! Enjoy!**

I was a zombie that morning; I remember that much very clearly. Phineas had left shortly after he started crying, but I hadn't slept at all that night anyway – too many questions battered around my head. What was Isabelle's problem? Would she persecute me a la Spanish Inquisition the next morning? Would Bryan do anything? Would the Fireside Girls still stand behind me? Would Phineas?

Big questions for a third grader.

The bus that morning was dead quiet. Every eye was on the back of my head, and I could practically here Bryan straining to keep himself from attacking me. This kind of thing would turn out to go on all day – in class, in the halls, whenever. However, I didn't really notice it after what happened next. It was Phineas and Ferbs' stop. The bus pulled up to their house. Ferb got on. And behind him was Phineas. But one crucial thing was different. Not the clothes – he still wore his orange and white shirt with blue shorts. Not the hair – still on orange splurge. No, the difference with Phineas was on his face. Now adorning his perpetually happy gaze was a small bruise next to his right eye.

And the biggest, geekiest pair of glasses since "Arthur".

A collective gasp filled the bus. Baljeet began performing psychoanalysis on a quickly deteriorating Buford. Bryan's face split into a massive, stupid grin, like a kid in a candy store. The Fireside Girls had the decency to avert their eyes. By now, the bus was pulling away, and Phineas and Ferb were sitting next to me. I decided that I would be the one to pose the bold question.

"Phineas, what HAPPENED?" Phineas just grinned sheepishly at my extremely rude question.

"What, this? Oh, well after I came over to your house, I kind of accidently ran into a wall, thinking it was a door. That was kind of the last straw for my Mom – she's been trying to get me to wear glasses for at least a year. I guess that I really do need them. But I got to pick them out myself! Aren't they awesome?" I looked at Ferb, who raised an eyebrow, silently saying, "Well?" I swallowed.

"Phineas," I began, "They're AMAZING! They really are? I love how SQUARE the frames are, how THICK the glass is? Now you won't need to wear safety glasses anymore!" Phineas' halcyon grin approached blinding levels of brightness.

"I know, right? That's exactly why I chose them!" He turned, smiling, to talk to (or, more appropriately, at) Ferb about the day's project. I breathed a smile of relief. One bullet dodged.

I had wanted to talk with the Fireside Girls about what had happened on the bus that morning, but, obviously, Phineas' glasses had completely made that topic unimportant by comparison. Luckily, my opportunity to talk with the Troop arose when Mrs. Osborn had split us off all into groups, and low and behold, my group contained all of The Fireside Girls. We all avoided eye contact for about 5 minutes until I finally mumbled something along the lines of,

"You guys don't have to hang out with me anymore if you don't want too." They all turned to look at me, and I realized there was something in their eyes. Fire? Strength? I knew it anywhere – loyalty. Gretchen was the one who spoke up.

"Are you kidding Isabella? This is when you need us the most! We're Fireside Girls Troop 46231 and we never give up!" The girls cheered, and the whole room spontaneously began chanting USA and singing a song about recycling (I don't know. Music numbers tend to do things like that.) The point was, two bullets dodged.

Lunch started out deceptively easy. I sat with The Fireside Girls, Phineas, Ferb, Baljeet and Buford, far away from Isabelle and her crew. We talked about croutons, dinosaurs, our music number, and eventually soap. But at about the 20 minute mark, things went south. It all started when Baljeet got up to get a drink at the water fountain. It had been salsa day, so everyone was getting water to wash down Danville Elementary's infamously hot salsa. But what happened next was bizarre. Out of nowhere, a massive glob of salsa flew across the room and splattered across the back of Baljeet's head. He froze, turned, and saw (as everyone else did) Bryan and Isabelle laughing helplessly, a spoon/catapult in Bryans hand. 2 minutes later, Katie fell victim to more flying salsa. Then Buford. Then Milly. Then Ginger. One shot hit Adyson, Gretchen, and Baljeet a second time, and almost hit Ferb, but he dived out of the way, contorting into a weird circular shape to avoid the flying evil. Finally, one glob landed right in between Phineas and Me, on the table a few inches away from each of our lunches. I turned to face Isabelle and Bryan, only to be greeted by about a tablespoon of salsa slamming into my mouth. Phineas whirled around, furious, along with everyone else at my table. Isabelle and Bryan were now beside themselves, but in between peals of laughter, Isabelle was able to sneak out,

"Remind you of home, Isabella?" rolling the r in remind. Phineas stood up.

"HEY, QUIT IT! SO HELP ME GOD YOU DO THAT ONE MORE TIME THE ONLY RED THING FLYING THOUGH THE AIR WILL BE YOUR BLOOD!" Bryan quickly reloaded. And fired.

It arched across the sky, staying remarkably intact, a red snowball of humiliation, a homing missile really, zoning in on it's target. And it found it.

Splat. Right on the right eyeglass lenses.

To his credit, Phineas didn't flee as I did. But what he did was all the more heartbreaking. He sat down, took off his eyeglasses, and buried his head in his hands, utterly defeated. And in that moment, I knew that it was time for this to stop.

The only problem was, there was still a few more hurdles in our way.

And one was bus sized.

**DUN DUN DUN! Thursday Afternoon still to come! And now it's question time (extra long because I didn't do it last time!)**

**Peanutjon – The remark above about Thursday on Thursday was actually inspired by you comment. And thank you! Also, as you can see, Glasses where discussed today. Nerds are next!**

**PhinebellaFanatic-Thanks! I personally think that I make them sound a little too much like teens, (ie, not 3****rd**** Graders, as they are in this story), but to hear someone else say that they're IC means a lot! And no, the objects are set now as it is. And no, you are not a nobody**

**Skypan – No, it's just that in the show, Isabella is Mexican (and Jewish.) I thought that making Isabelle a 3****rd**** Grade Racist would make her all the more unlikable. Plus it keys off the final showdown.**

**Skychan11 – The whole contacts thing will be talked about eventually (ie, last story – I HAVE A PLAN!)**

**Em – Well, here you go!**

**GryffindorSpark – Nice! I look forward to reading it! And no problem – school eats time. A LOT OF IT.**

**Bethieboots332 – All will be revealed…**

**PFTones3482 – Yes, she is a big jerk. I hope to update again over the weekend if I can.**

**Thatrandomnerd – Congratulations! You are correct! No problem at least 10 people have asked that and I've had to pretend to know nothing. **

**Phinebellafan2298 – Thanks! I know I love it when I find stories like that!**

**griffinweasley0330 – Ok!**

**OK I THINK THAT'S EVERYONE IF NOT I'M SORRY IT'S NOT THAT I DON'T CARE I'M JUST LAZY! (so lazy…)**


	9. Thursday Afternoon

**And we're back! I apologize for the delay, but hurricanes tend to really mess up schedules (and power lines.) But now we're back in action with Thursday afternoon! One word of warning – there are some "racial confrontations" in this chapter between Isabella and Bryan. I do not in any way support such language or behavior. Anyway, this is really the chapter that answers most of the questions, and the last one or two resolve the conflict. SO GET READY FOR OBJECTS TO BE REALIZED AND STUFF!**

Isabella POV

The rest of the day went by fairly quickly. After lunch, the salsa flinging finally ended, but its effects were still felt – Phineas refused to put his glasses back on, most of our clothes had massive stains on them, and everyone was so stunned, communication was impossible. The 3 o'clock bell was never more welcome.

But the worst was still to come.

We filed on to Bus 19 in the usual manner – fireside girls in row 6, Buford and Baljeet in the Row 7 2-seater, and Ferb, Phineas and I in Row 7, Right side. Bryan, however, came on the bus and sat, not in the back, as he had been doing so ever since our encounter on Monday, but directly diagonal from Phineas, Ferb and I. And in his hand was a large trash bag.

The taunts started first.

"Hey Isabella, how'd you jump the fence in a skirt?"

"Hey Corn Chip face, you hang around her because she smells like salsa?"

"Hey British kid...Your head's weird!"

They continued for what seemed like ages. But the taunts ended up not being the main problem. Because as soon as Bryan ran out of taunts (he ran out remarkably fast) he reached into the trash bag and pulled out…a sombrero with a yellow, construction paper Jewish star on it.. Of course, because who couldn't think of THAT? He lifted it above his head.

"Oh vey, what is this? CATCH, AMIGO!" And with that, he threw it.

There were just two problems.

One was that Bryan was, quite simply, a terrible athlete, and missed my head by about a mile.

Two was the design of the hat caused it spin, sort of like a boomerang.

All this caused the hat to spin towards my head, just missing my face…

But clipping my bow.

And then, it lurched sideways in midair – and smacked Buford in the face.

The entire bus gasped for what seemed like the 7th time this week (except for the bus driver. Actually, WHAT THE HECK WAS HE DOING ALL THIS TIME?! DRIVING?) My bow wobbled as Buford's face reddened.

Back. Pink.

Forth. Red.

Back. Scarlet.

Forth. Ruby.

Off. Flames.

Phineas made this little noise and collapsed to the floor, grabbing the bow and furiously, and ineffectually trying to place it back on my head, all the while screaming at the top of his lungs through heavy sobs that sounded like suffocation and tears the size of hubcaps, "I PROMISED! I PROMISED!"

Bryan Laughed.

Ferb's pupils dilated and he sort of slumped back.

The Fireside Girls rose as one and began trying to hug both me and Phineas over their seats.

Bryan continued to laugh.

Baljeet, who had been muttering to me psychology tactics that could negate Bryan's sociological impact, froze up.

And Buford rose up the sky, gaining power, weight and height unsurpassed as he rose.

"EEEE-NOUGH!" Buford's fist shot out from his side, gaining momentum exponentially as it honed in on its target, which, in this case, was Bryan's nose.

CONTACT!

Bryan shot backwards, a tail of flames (oh those crazy animators) following him as he hit the back wall of the bus with a dull "WUMP!"

Once more, absolute silence.

Bryan rose slowly and solemnly. He spoke low and clear for all to hear.

"Buford Van Stomn of Danville, you have been blessed with the sacred power of bullydom. You hereby enter your apprenticeship. Your act of unseating me has begun the change. The next time you defeat me in bully combat, YOU will become the bully." Buford's mouth dropped to his seat. Bryan continued, "However, that is in the future. Now is the time for a very important decision – you must pick your nerd." Buford's eyes turned to Baljeet, who nodded. Buford spoke up.

"I hereby select Baljeet!" Bryan nodded. He replied,

"Then let the changes begin!"

"Wait, what changes?" Asked Baljeet and Buford, panicking in unison. In reply, a glow emanated from the two. Baljeet was shrinking, his arms becoming pencil thin, while his head seemed to double in size. Buford's body began growing in spurts until he completely blocked all of Baljeet but his head. His head, meanwhile, was now about the size and shape of a pail. The glow faded. Bryan spoke.

"It is done for now." Everyone turned to Bryan – but he was different. He was no longer a mighty, menacing figure, but rather one with the small, scrawny body of a normal 11 year old. His voice had changed as well, going form a throaty, phlegmy whine to a soft, sorrowful chant. "It's finally almost over." He turned toward Baljeet and Buford. "I'm sorry, but you too have a world of hell ahead of you. Once you defeat me again, you'll gain the attitudes of your identity's. Baljeet, get ready to have the social skills of a yak. And Buford…you're going to be like me. Just…try to never go to far. God knows I just did." He turned towards me.

"I – I'm so, so sorry."

On cue, the bus pulled up, and we all rushed off. We (Phineas, Ferb, The Fireside Girls, Buford, Baljeet and I) turned as soon as we could to face where Bryan had been a minute ago, but he was already entering his house.

We never really talked to him again, except for Buford one more time. But he's always seemed happy.

It was about 45 minutes after we'd been dropped off, and we all were sitting in a ring around the tree, looking at our feet, lost in our thoughts. I, for one, couldn't get Phineas' desperate, sobbing voice out of my head…

The boy in questions stood up.

"Well, I, for one, am bored. So what if we forgot to plan a project today and we just went through more plot twists then something with lots of plot twists! Let's make something! Ferb, I know what we're gonna do today! Let's make a carnival swing!" We all cheered – but we didn't really know what we were in for.

Phineas and Ferb got the supplies in lightning fast, and work began immediately. Within the half hour, work was done, and everyone from the neighborhood had arrived. Phineas did his usual shtick about the ride, and then everyone climbed aboard. Phineas got into the same seat as I (sending me into miniature hysterics) and got Ferb to fire up the machine. As the swings began, Candace walked in, and she reclined against the house smiling ruefully while watching our joy. However, after the 10th or so rotation, I noticed that the seats were feeling a little – wobbly. I turned to Gretchen, who was sitting behind me, and asked her over the noise of the machine if she had noticed the same thing.

She had.

I turned to Phineas.

"Phineas, do these seats seem a little…wobbly to you?" Phineas turned and smiled.

"Wobbly? No, not really! Just sit back and enjoy, ok?" I was about to respond that I couldn't enjoy when my safety possibly hung in the balance, but there was something  
in his face, some deep request for acceptance and for me to have a good time after all that had happened, that made my ignore what I thought.

And so, 2 minutes later, we all got off the ride about 24 seconds before the entire contraption collapsed.

Candace rushed over to us.

"PHINEAS! WHAT HAPPENED?" Phineas was shivering wildly, looking furtively from side to side.

"I don't know! We followed the blueprint exactly!" Ferb pulled out the blueprint. "See! We even configured all of the beams correctly in the mainfr-ohhhhhhh. Oh no."

"WHAT DID YOU GUYS DO?!"

"Well, I might have misread the directions a tad…" Candace was beside herself.

"PHINEAS YOU ALMOST KILLED EVERYONE! WHY AREN'T YOU WEARING YOU GLASSES?" At the mention of his glasses, Phineas' posture went from accepting to defensive, FAST.

"Don't bring those THINGS up with me Candace! I'm never wearing them again!" Everyone took a step back. Phineas had spoken so loudly before, much less yelled." Candace mulled this over.

"Phineas – if you don't wear your glasses, your putting everyone here at risk."

"Candace, it was a one-time thing! I'm not even sure if I made a mistake or if we just had faulty beams!" Phineas responded, his voice rising to almost screeching levels.

"Phineas – no. I'm very sorry, but I have to show Mom this. It's not the creative aspect, it just…isn't safe anymore." She turned, but at that moment, a beam of light struck the ruined machine and it disappeared. Phineas turned back to Candace.

"Candace, I really don't want to fight about this. Can't we just drop it?" Candace sighed.

"No young man. The next time you build something I find unsafe, I'm showing Mom, and that's that." The pair, a brother and sister nowhere near as close in age and interests as brother and step-brother, yet biologically closer then Ferb and Phineas would ever be, exchanged stares, and something passed between them – something important broke. It wasn't love, but it was something perhaps all the more fragile and unfixable. Maybe it was trust.

We all walked home in silence. I ate dinner, did my homework, and eventually, around 8:30, was just sitting alone in my room when I realized that something had to be done, or no one would ever survive until this year, much less Saturday. So I walked across the street and knocked on the Flynn-Fletchers door. Phineas' mom answered.

"Why hello! You must be Isabella! (we hadn't really met at the time beyond brief hellos.) Come on in! Ferb's in his and Phineas' room, and Phineas is in the backyard, in think." I nodded and walked out into the backyard.

I saw his silhouette against the tree. He was holding Perry while looking up at the sky. (It was a VERY starry night, the kind when you can see rivers of light in the sky.) He didn't turn when I sat down next to him, but rather just sort of huddled up against me like a very young child does to their mother when their scared or tired. I whispered quietly,

(song – In The Aeroplane Over the Sea, Neutral Milk Hotel)

"What a beautiful face I have found in this place that is circling all-round the sun."

Phineas' soft answer came seconds later.

"What a beautiful dream that could flash on the screen in the blink of an eye and be gone from me."

Our voices joined as one.

"Soft and sweet, let me hold it close and keep it here, let me."

We had now gone from whispering to singing.

"And one day we will die

And our ashes will fly

From the aeroplane over the sea

But for now we are young

Let us lay in the sun

And Count every beautiful thing we can see

Love to be

In the arms of all I'm keeping here

Let me."

We stopped here and just sat, listening to the night, before after an eternity, Phineas spoke up.

"We have to do something." I nodded. And then it hit me. Miss Osborn had said something about a mini-play about the invasion of conquistadors that we could do for extra credit. I'd been interested, but I knew that if I signed up, Isabelle would just sign up to so as to find a way to bully me. But now, if we put in my idea…

"I've got it." I said gleefully. Phineas turned to me.

"Oh yeah? What is it?" I rose my hands a la Addams Family.

Snap snap.

**Credit to Robot Wolf 26Z for mentioning The Addams Family, which sent me into connection land where you draw parallels and implement references to make you story better by having an actual ending (this isn't the end.) Thank you for that! Enjoy working yourselves into frenzies trying to figure out the plan if you wish! Now it's question time! Forgive me if I don't answer your question because I forgot where I left off last time and I'm both lazy and tired and cold. So cold…so cold…**

**14AmyChan – Well, you now know how Candace started busting, so I hope that covers up this week's cliffhanger with new info for you! Sorry though I know cliffhangers are mean.**

**Theguy4 – Ya, I wanted her to have the sort of traditional grade school bully viciousness, but wanted it to be a little broader then stuff like "your gay" so I could make the story incorporate bigger things like racism and other forms of hate. God I sound like an English teacher.**

**GryffindorSpark – glad to have provided a punching bag for you! We all need one sometimes. And I have an awesome (read – cop out-ish) idea to explain his obviousness that will come in very soon…**

**PFTones3482 – I advise you to ask a genie for a new Otherdimensionator, but never forget that genies are the problem, man. You should be fighting genies. (I'm sorry but that happens to be one of my favorite quotes ever.)**

**sonicboy678 – oh they are going to get comeuppance in buckets**

**Peanutjon – assuming that you live in America, you'll probably read this on a Thursday (and Happy Thanksgiving everyone! Eat lots of food!)**

**Robot Wolf 26Z – you should have a good idea, you're the one who gave me the idea of the form of comeuppance…**

**Piano-Man – Ya, I've kinda noticed that as I've read more and more stuff. And good idea! It never occurred to me because there's just one viewpoint, but I'll be sure to add that.**

**Alright that's it! Happy Thanksgiving! Unless you don't want to have a happy thanksgiving, in which case I hope that you either don't celebrate it or your turkey runs away shortly before you begin eating it.**


	10. Friday

Ok,** so I know I haven't updated this story, or any other story, in a half a year.**

**But do you know what my friends?**

**Summer is coming.**

**And that means no school, which means free time, which means finishing this story and then hopefully writing more!**

**And so, on to Friday!**

The first half of the day whizzed by. Breakfast, bus (Bryan didn't say a word) first half of the day, lunch, then back to class.

Mrs. Osborn spoke, "Ok class, it's time to begin our play about the Spanish Conquest of Mexico. Who would like to play Montezuma, King of the Aztecs?" My hand shot up. Isabelle looked at me out if the corner if her eye, the hint of a smirk on her face. Mrs. Osborn's eyes widened. "Isabella? You want to play an old Aztec Ki - okay then!" The rest of the roles were handed out. Phineas, Ferb and the gang were all Aztecs. Some other kids were Spanish soldiers. One kid was a shrub (not sure why.) Finally, Mrs. Osborn assigned the last role. Who would like to be Cortes, conqueror of the Aztecs and spreader of imperialism and smallpox?" Isabelle raised her hand, obviously relishing in the chance to play the conqueror of my ancestors. "Okay then, so Isabelle will be Cortes!" Miss Osborn said. She stood up and continued, "So this play will be all improv. Use what we've learned about Cortes and the Aztecs thus far as material, and have fun with this! Places, and...action!"

Isabelle strode forward, flanked by "Spaniards" on either side.

"Greetings!" She said, her face creased by a smirk running from ear to ear. "I am Cortes! My men and I come from a far off land known as Spain! We bring only peace and Christianity, and most definitely not superior weaponry and armor or virally infectious diseases!"

I bowed before Isabelle, my "Aztecs" following my lead, causing her smirk to grow still larger. That's it, I thought, Build her up, make her think she's beaten you into submission. I spoke,

"Oh grand pale one! Our prophecies tell of a pale God who left long ago, one day to return with gifts of wonder! Today is a day of rejoicing!"

"Indeed!" Answered Isabelle. "This calls for a celebration come into our camp and enjoy a meal and trade your raw materials to us in exchange for blankets which clearly carry no smallpox!" She began to walk off towards an imaginary camp.

It was time.

"Wait." I said, my voice low and commanding. Isabelle turned, confused.

"What?" I continued.

"We cannot trade with you." Isabelle looked even more confused.

"Why?"

I stepped forward, my Aztecs standing behind me menacingly.

"You have taken the land which is rightfully ours. Years from now my people will be forced to live in mobile homes on reservations. Your people will wear cardigans, and drink highballs. We will sell our bracelets by the road sides, you will play golf, and enjoy hot hors d'oeuvres. My people will have pain and degradation. Your people will have stick shifts. The gods of my people have spoken. They have said, "Do not trust the Spanish, especially Hernando Cortes."

There was a pause, and then Mrs. Osborn began cheering wildly, with the whole class following suit.

"Brilliant improv Isabella! Although this sadly never happened and the entire Aztec society was reduced to rubble, your speech successfully sowed how much the past connects to the present! You get an A!"

"But-but-but... I was the star! I was supposed to win!" Isabelle stammered.

"Oh, come now Isabelle." Said Mrs. Osborn, "Your portrayal of Cortes was good too, a solid B+! Just so you know, if you'd mentioned smallpox that often in real life, the Aztecs probably would have gotten suspicious and killed you. Just some food for thought."

The rest of the day was a breeze. Isabelle had been shown up and dealt with, Bryan was no longer a bully, and I had a whole weekend ahead of me. As we rode the bus home I turned to Phineas.

"So Phineas, what did you end up doing about those...you know..."

"Glasses?" He answered. I nodded. He smiled.

"Got contacts! He said, waving around a brand new box he'd pulled from his pocket.

"Cool!" I said. I took a deep breathe. This was it. Time to deploy the cute.

"So...watcha doin' today?" The usual shock waves, fireworks, etc. occurred, and as if nothing had happened, said, "We're building the biggest pillow ever!"

"Oh." I said, confused by the lack of reaction. "Can, uh - can I see your box of contacts there please?"

"Sure thing!" He said. I read the back of the box.

Warning - side effects may include drowsiness, runny nose, decrease in vision, increase in vision, normal vision, super vision, no vision, and decrease in cuteness sensitivity.

Facepalm. OF COURSE Phineas got cute resistant contact lenses.

I sat for a moment, the. Started to chuckle. This was crazy. This whole week was crazy. This bus was crazy.

I wanted to remember it.

I'm not that big of a fan of vandalism, but this was for a good cause, and besides, there was already so much writing on the seat in front of us that no one would notice anything new.

So I took out the marker that was meant to be used to humiliate Isabelle and started to write.

This is where I met everyone.

This is where Phineas found and then lost cuteness.

This is where Ferb ferbed.

This is where Troop 46321 was reborn.

This is where Bryan, Buford and Baljeet were reshaped.

This is where We were made.

I put my initials and the date. The bus stopped, and we all got off.

I think I left that marker in the bus. I never saw it again, in any case.

The End(?)

EPILOGUE TOMORROW


	11. Epilogue

Epilogue

Perry POV

It was me.  
I was the one who got Isabella's family on Maple Drive.  
I knew that Pinky belonged to them, and I knew that if the Garcia-Shapiro's moved elsewhere, they'd be in a different sector and Pinky would be fighting some other evil scientist.  
At the time, I was the only agent on the street and thus, the only one in the sector.  
This meant I had to battle both Doofenshmirtz and Poofenplotz - often on the same day. While I was always successful, my body just couldn't take the stress any more of having 2 nemesis (though Doof clearly has no trouble handling 2 nemesis...)  
So I talked to Monogram, Nd he pilled some strings and got the Garcia-Shapiro's onto Maple Drive and assigned Poofenplotz to Pinky.  
It was me.

THE END

Thanks for reading!


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